Three Days Away
by Bailation
Summary: After a raging argument between Ron and Hermione, and some time apart, both realize they missed each other more than expected. Post-DH, two-shot.
1. The Problem

In what seemed to be a great storm of emotion, Hermione Granger stomped loudly into the small flat belonging to Harry Potter, who started so greatly he fell off the couch on which he had been lying.

Hermione stood in front of him, arms crossed over her chest, and tears welling in her eyes. "I need to talk to you."

"What did Ron do now?" asked Harry wearily, standing up from the floor on which he had fallen.

Hermione looked as if she could have easily breathed fire. "Everything!" she spat, the tears now pouring down her face. She sat huffily down next to Harry on the couch, and he put his arm around her shoulders. "Tell me what happened."

This was all the invitation Hermione needed. "We've just been arguing so much more than usual lately!" she cried despairingly. "And today was just the breaking point. He shouted at me because I told him Viktor Krum had sent an owl saying he was in London and asking to go out to dinner – and Viktor said Ron was welcome to come – and I just started shouting back…and …and…" Hermione broke off and burst into sobs, at which point Harry took her into his arms, hugging her tightly.

"What happened next?" Harry asked softly, when her sobs had reduced.

"Well, he got jealous and yelled, 'I knew all you wanted were famous blokes!' Then I yelled back, 'At least I don't snog a girl I don't even like for three months!' I meant Lavender, but I'm not sure he thought I meant me or her. Anyway, then he just glared at me and left my flat.

"I really don't care. I'm so_ through_ with him! I'm so sick of worrying about going out with old friends because of the jealousy_ he's _had since he was fifteen!"

Hermione finally stopped talking with a sigh of finality and exhaustion. Harry looked at her uncertainly, anxiously waiting for her to start up again. When only a small sniff escaped from her and nothing else, Harry decided he needed to tell Hermione the truth, which he wasn't sure she already knew or not.

"Hermione," Harry said, uncertain on how to word his phrasing, "You know Ron is jealous mostly only when _you're_ around other blokes, right?"

Hermione shot him a "do I really look that stupid?" kind of look and Harry moved hastily on to his next tactic. "Alright, I'm just making sure! Well, then you must know, Ron only acts like that because he's completely and devotedly mad about you."

Hermione's head swiveled around in his direction; her facial expression no longer as harsh as before, but a bit softened. Then it hardened again and Hermione looked as if she could've strangled Harry just for saying those words to her. "It doesn't matter!" she snapped spitefully. "He doesn't love me enough to control his raging emotions, and he'll stop at nothing to make sure everyone around him knows he hates the person he's jealous of!"

Harry sighed, now entirely exhausted from his friends' arguments. "Alright, Hermione. Do what you please. Just keep me out of it."

"I _won't_ talk to him," said Hermione determinedly, as if Harry hadn't spoken. "He'll have to come to me and _beg_ before I forgive him."

Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head. He had learned, over the years, not to get involved within Ron and Hermione's constant wars, and this one seemed to be one he would be extra cautious to avoid.


	2. I Miss

The hot, bright sunlight shown dazzlingly through the thin, white curtains that barely obscured the windows in Hermione's bedroom, waking her from the marvelous dream she had been having. Her eyes squeezed tighter as she realized the sun was shining on the other side of her eyelids. Finally, she could ignore it no longer and she couldn't go back to sleep; she was up for the day.

Hermione sighed and sat up, Crookshanks leaping onto her lap as she did. It had been three days since her spat with Ron, and neither of them had said anything to the other. Harry seemed to have chosen to stay completely out of it. Before the war and during, Hermione could've stayed angry with Ron for ages. But now, in the aftermath of Voldemort's death, she never wanted to stay furious with anyone for too long, for fear they would be gone from her the next day.

Apparently, Ron felt the same way, for an hour later he stood on her threshold, staring at her with those pleading blue eyes, and nonverbally begging for her forgiveness.

Hermione folded her arms and waited for him to apologize, or at least to speak to her, because all he was doing was gaping at her, looking lost for words.

"May I help you with something, Ronald?" she asked icily, her tone dripping with disdain.

"I – I miss you," said Ron quietly, his eyes never leaving hers. Hermione raised an eyebrow and turned, leaving Ron to enter on his own, which he seemed to take as a good sign, opposed to her deep yearning to slam the door in his face.

She began to sort the brand-new books she had bought the day before in Diagon Alley onto the never ending shelves of books that covered her entire living room. She did not face Ron or meet his eyes, but busied herself as best as she could with the books. Even if it had been three days, she still wanted to be furious with him.

"Hermione, I miss you."

Ron's voice carried from the doorway of her living room, and she froze with a book held in midair. Then, shaking her head as if she had imagined his voice, she proceeded back to her book shelving. However, she heard Ron's footsteps as he strode swiftly across the room to stand in front of her. He reached out and seized the book she was holding from the grasp, causing her to meet his eyes for the first time. He grabbed her hand rather tentatively, for fear she would lash out and swat him away. She did not, because deep within her, she was missing his tender touch and the sweetness he delivered with it.

He had her gaze now, and neither of them was breaking it. Ron squeezed her hand and said in a soft voice, "I miss rescuing you from giant trolls on Halloween night."

Hermione bit back a smile, looking at him suspiciously and wondering what he was on about. However, Ron went on as if he hadn't noticed her expression.

"I miss following spiders into the Forbidden Forest to make sure you'll be Unpetrified. I miss fighting with you about stupid things, like your cat eating my rat."

Ron sighed and pulled her into his arms slowly, watching her unblinkingly and cautiously, as if he was still afraid she would resist him.

But he already had her, and she knew it. She gave in, and he pulled her into his arms. "I miss watching you dance with other blokes and wishing it was me you were dancing with instead. I miss watching you work on homework, because your eyes become focused like you're always reading something interesting." Ron took a chance and pulled her in closer, so his arms were now wrapped fully around her waist. She placed her arms on his forearms, hoping she didn't look like she was giving in too easily.

"I miss seeing your face on the sidelines while I'm playing Quidditch. I miss dancing with you at my brother's wedding. I miss saving you from the Cruciatus Curse. I miss kissing you in the middle of a war." Ron's face turned the softest Hermione had ever seen it, but a ghost of smile lingered on it as well. "I miss _you_, Hermione."

At this, Hermione could take no more, and the tears that had been threatening to fall finally did. She hugged Ron tightly and buried her face in the nape of his neck. "I miss you, Ron."

He pulled away, now staring at her with a mingled look of fright and curiosity. She ignored this, and continued. "I miss teaching you how to levitate a feather, even if you do it wrong. I miss brewing a Polyjuice Potion in the girls' lavatory with you." Ron smiled a bit at this, and Hermione could only slightly return it before going on.

"I miss forgiving you for stupid fights. I miss your stupid jealousy, because I converse with other blokes besides you and Harry. I miss kissing you for good luck for Quidditch matches. I miss attacking you with charmed birds because of _my _jealousy."

Hermione sighed and tousled his hair, running her fingers through it a few times. Ron closed his eyes at her touch, and she stopped only to finish her dialogue.

"I miss fixing you up when you're Splinched. I miss crying over you when you leave. I miss waking to your face after being tortured." She shrugged dismissively, and looked at him in a sad kind of way. "I miss kissing you during the middle of a war. I miss you, Ron."

It seemed this was all Ron could take. He grabbed her by the waist and kissed her almost roughly, and it reminded Hermione of the night of the battle of Hogwarts. There was so much put into that first kiss: eagerness, hastiness, and especially the lingering fact that either of them could've easily been killed that night.

But this kiss, this one they were indulging in at the very moment, seemed just as hasty, just as eager, but in a different way. Their lives were no longer in peril, but they still felt that need to do it right at that moment, for fear either of them would be lost in the next.

They broke apart after what seemed to be several long years to Hermione. Both breathing rather rapidly, they stared at one another for what could've been a few centuries. Finally, Ron asked the golden question that reminded Hermione that he was _not _entirely off the hook:

"So, do you forgive me?"


End file.
